Dysfunctional Family
by Unknown Marauder
Summary: "I know. But you like it that way. Wouldn't trade me for the world." And, deep down, Roderich had to agree. He wouldn't trade this dysfunctional family for anything. Rated M for language and implied sexual situations.


**A/N:** I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia, Hideki Himamura does. This was written for the sake of writing, and how every now and then we all need a little knife-induced fluff, right? Though the label does say that this is a RoderichxLudwig (AustriaxGermany) story, it has a lot of GilbertxRoderich (PrussiaxAustria) in it, especially at the end.

**XxXxXxX**

"Ow! Verdammt!" Those words echoed down the hallway, and Roderich Edelstein let out a heavy sigh. Good, Lord, what had the boy done this time? Ludwig was strong, efficient, and a good worker, but sometimes he could be stupid. The blond boy ran down the hall, footsteps heavy on the wooden floor. Surprisingly, all the composer was immediately worried about was if the young teenager had taken off his shoes.

He raised his head from a small stack of sheet music to watch Ludwig enter the room. Surely, all the boy had done was rammed his wrist into the side of the oven, burning it. Ludwig, while a rather good cook, still had yet to learn the grace that came with maneuvering around a kitchen. At least the boy had been gracious enough to offer to make lunch for the other two Germanics. It made them actually seem like a family. Roderich thought of the three of them as a family, and almost snorted at the image of Gilbert being his brother. That was just plain wrong.

However, nothing could have prepared him for the sight in his piano room doorway. There was Ludwig, tall for his age, broad in the shoulders, blond hair slightly long and a little messy (it seemed to be the popular style these days)hanging in front of his blue eyes, which were wide in a combination of worry and pain. Down the front of his white shirt was a crimson red stain. Blood. Before Roderich could even ask what happened, he saw the cause. A filet knife was stuck in Ludwig's hand. What was worse was that the kitchen utensil had gone all the way through, the tip sticking out a good inch from the back of his hand.

"What the Hell?" Roderich asked, a mixture of emotions in that small half-sentence. Worry, surprise, exasperation, fear for blood on his carpet… fear for the nerves in the teenager's hand. "Ludwig, how in the world did you do that? What were you trying to make?"

The teen glanced nervously down to his hand. "Wurst and potatoes… tried to cut the potatoes extra fine so they would mash better…"

Roderich gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed Ludwig by the non impaled hand before leading him to the closest bathroom. "You don't use a filet knife to cut potatoes. You use it for fish. How you got it stuck like that in your hand, I won't ask… but hold still. I'm going to pull it out." There was a moment of awkward silence as the musician lightly took Ludwig's hand with one of his own, and then the knife handle with another, slowly and carefully pulling it out so that the sharp blade would not make the cut worse. Ludwig gave a small hiss of pain, closing his eyes so he did not have to watch the knife being taken from his hand.

The older man sighed and set the bloody knife in the sink once it had been safely removed. "There. You can open your eyes. I will wash the wound and bandage it. Though until you can properly handle a kitchen knife, I won't let you cook anymore." Roderich shook his head, pulling gauze and antiseptic from a medicine cabinet and tending to Ludwig's wound.

It was fifteen minutes before the blood had been cleaned off, Ludwig had stopped cringing at the sting of the antiseptic, and the gauze was secured to both sides of the blonde's hand. Roderich let out a heavy breath and ran his fingers through his brown hair. "There you go. Next time, don't impale your hand. Assuming there will be a next time, that is."

"I won't…" Ludwig looked at the older man, seeming nervous now. He was avoiding the violet eyes just across from him as if they were the gaze of Medusa.

"Now, go clean up your mess in the kitchen, and one of the maids can make somethi-" Roderich's small command was quickly cut off as Ludwig nervously leaned in close, kissing the brunet on the lips. It was a short kiss, chaste and nervous. The sudden display of emotion caught the Austrian off guard, and it was Ludwig who pulled away from the kiss first.

There was a short, awkward silence before Ludwig stood and cleared his throat. "Well… now that I have properly thanked you, I shall go to clean the kitchen."

Roderich blinked and his brow furrowed. Clearly, he didn't understand. "What do you mean 'thanked me'? Ludwig, you could have just said 'Danke' like normal. What provoked that, may I ask?" The blond young man blushed, glancing to the side.

"Well… I saw you do that to Gilbert this morning. You two had come out of the bathroom after your morning shower. You told him 'Thank you', and it sounded like he had helped you with something very painful. Did you get Mariazell stuck in the hairdryer?" There was a moment of awkward silence before Roderich stood up and shook his head. He had to talk to Gilbert now.

"Ludwig, don't worry about lunch. And… I'll tell you more about thanking people this evening after dinner. I think you'll find that there is a lot about what you just did that you don't know."

**XxXxXxX**

Gilbert was lounging on the love seat in Roderich's piano room when the brunet returned from assisting his little brother with the knife in his hand. The platinum haired man smirked, watching the composer enter. He look frustrated… such a remarkably sexy look for the man. Then again, to Gilbert, Roderich looked remarkably enticing no matter what expression he had on.

"Why hey there. Looking for someone special?"

Roderich turned to Gilbert and glared. "We are no longer having sex when Ludwig is in the house. You are a bad influence on that boy."

Gilbert's face fell. "Wh-what? But why?" It was a sort of a whiney question, and the man pouted, red eyes disappointed. "Not the bad influence part, the no sex. What did I do wrong?"

"He heard us."

"So?" Gilbert shrugged. "The boy has to learn some day. 'When two men are fucking horny and in steamy and compromising situations, and one has a very sensitive and easily accessible erogenous zone, things happen'."

Roderich sighed. "He isn't old enough to know those things yet… and you make it sound dirtier than it really is."

The albino smirked. "I know. But you like it that way. Wouldn't trade me for the world."

And, deep down, Roderich had to agree. He wouldn't trade this dysfunctional family for anything.


End file.
